


Strove to check my onward going

by Petra



Category: Slings & Arrows
Genre: F/F, ill-advised sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-16
Updated: 2008-11-16
Packaged: 2018-07-18 19:45:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7327990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Petra/pseuds/Petra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A combination of personality and perimenopause.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strove to check my onward going

**Author's Note:**

> Curtana's story [You could help, it wouldn't be that hard](http://community.livejournal.com/melancholydanes/63864.html) is Anna and Ellen bonding in a thoroughly gen way. It made me speculate, though as I said to [](http://carla-scribbles.livejournal.com/profile)[carla_scribbles](http://carla-scribbles.livejournal.com/), I don't believe that Anna is as foolish as this.

They were drunk the first time.

And the second.

Anna couldn't meet Ellen's eyes at work for a week after, either time, but after the third time, when it was a box of very nice chocolates from a sponsor and a bottle of wine that definitely didn't get anyone drunk enough to excuse anything, it was a lot easier.

It didn't make her easier to get along with, or any less, well, bitchy, to call a spade a spade. Considering how much more cheerful Anna usually felt when she was in -- a dating relationship, she couldn't really work out what Ellen's problem was, and she chalked it up to a combination of personality and perimenopause.

It got to where Anna was ending up in bed with the leading lady more than half the nights -- except for matinees, because superstition wasn't the half of it. She started passing off driving Ellen in to work as an effort to stop her from being late, which didn't always work because Anna was so used to being in the office before the birds sang for sunrise, and Ellen hadn't seen a sunrise from the normal way around in decades and firmly insisted she didn't intend to start now, not even from some twisted idea of romance.

The funniest part -- not in a funny ha-ha way, but a twist in your stomach way -- was even though of all the bosses in the entire universe, Oliver Welles was the last one who'd ever fire somebody for being -- not straight -- Ellen had said, "We're not telling anyone," the third time, and Anna hadn't argued.

After it got to be a habit -- kiss Ellen, have dinner, kiss Ellen again when she tasted like wine and go to bed with her, which was really an amazing damn experience -- it was kind of too late to say, "But I don't see why we can't tell anyone."

Anna didn't see, either, why Ellen decided she needed to have a one-night stand with a twenty-two year old boy, though she had to admit that before, well, everything, she'd wondered why any twenty-two year old boy in his right mind would go to bed with Ellen. That part made a heck of a lot more sense with a little knowledge under her belt. Below the belt.

But the Sunday morning Anna brought muffins and coffee to Ellen's house at the perfectly reasonable hour of ten-o'clock and Ellen came to the door in a bathrobe and said, "Sorry," when she dodged Anna, who was just trying to plain old kiss her in the front hall -- Anna's not sure she'll ever forgive Ellen for that. Or the dark-haired, half-unbuttoned boy who was drinking the orange juice Anna'd left on Friday night, giving her a confused but weirdly hopeful smirk.

Anna looked from Ellen, who'd always been as good as she needed to be at hiding whatever it was she was feeling, to the kid, who waggled his eyebrows at her. "I brought your groceries," she said, flustered and feeling herself going pink, and pushed the bag of muffins into Ellen's hands.

She kept the coffee, though her fingers shook enough as she pulled out of the drive that she was sure she shouldn't have any of it.  



End file.
